Posted in dreams

kiss the cat

I made a short giff animation for my website the other day using photoshop to make a series of images to create a moving shadow. After I loaded it up to the site, I felt elated about what a short and satisfying project that had been; I was bursting with ideas but had to go to bed to a restless night of sleep. Later, I managed a good deep nap were I revived myself more. . .

I was with a group of friends and we were wearing black clothes and hats, as though ready to break and enter (to get something important). We wanted some equipment for a project. We crept around some houses but couldn’t get to what we wanted, even by talking with and trying to persuade someone who lived in a certain familiar house. Myself and the gang hopefully crept around other buildings and ended up in a Catholic Church.

We looked around and realized that the church was having a “cult convention”. We saw one group of cultist martial arts-styled people standing in a circle. Next to them was a group wearing potato sacks and looking very dirty. On and on, these strange people everywhere — so much so that we couldn’t get to an exit . . . finally we found our way out, down a winding road with groups of people in grassy thickets here and there. Just before waking I came upon a group of people, each with a cat, a cat that they were attempting to kiss!

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Posted in dreams

shy and quirky middle aged couple scale glacial cliff wall

Yesterday I spent the day moving a work table and chairs into my modest new art studio space in downtown Davis; this was a satisfying but tiring activity.  Moving in has cheered me immensely because it has been a challenge for me to keep up a steady art practice since completing my graduate studies several months ago.   With the help of a kindly delivery man I wheeled my unfinished rectangular table to the front of the building.  Next, I caused a commotion amongst the nearby office workers by spray-painting my table top white, thereby causing fumes to form a toxic cloud.  Thankfully, after some discussion with my fellow tenants they conceded that I should finish my paint job.  This object is now a glorious and sturdy white slab of a table to work on.  I am sitting at the table right now as I write…

Last night I dreamed that I was two people in a couple, a late forties or early fifties man and woman who were on a journey.

At first I had the perspective of the round brunette woman: we had a daughter together, a daughter who was very sick.  In order to save her life, we had to go on a search to find a cure.  The dream begins with me looking at my husband, a small bookish man with very large glasses.   We are scaling a glacial cliff together and the wind is whistling through our ears.  Glistening blue and white ice crystals are all around us looking mystical and as we round a corner, we can see an airplane parked down in a nearby valley, waiting for us.  Getting to the plane is urgent and we hop in just as it is taking off.

Once inside the plane I (the woman) spoke with a woman who seemed to be a healer of some kind.  She talked and seemed to be glowing but her words are not in my memory anymore.  I (the man) was stuck in the front portion of the aircraft.  I tried to get back to where my wife was because I sensed that something important was happening, but I instead found my way blocked and soon became preoccupied with finding a safe seat and looking at the flight deck.  I woke up.

Posted in dreams

Strange Water

C++ is essentially applied-math . . . and I would take a class in this as an elective during the boot-camp period of my first semester of my new schizophrenic, collaboration-focused art and technology graduate program in 2008.  My theory and culture-focused / art-education-trained-brain thus far hadn’t felt the hard limits of math, logic, or anything of the like, since astronomy and micro-economics several years before.

Sometime around the 6th week of class, I stayed up until 3 in the morning working on the chapter on functions.  In previous weeks I’d accidentally created a loop that printed an unending list figures and would only stop if I closed the program.  This was like turning on a faucet without being able to turn it off; unleashing an endless little flood of sorts.

On this night I had a break-through.  A major portion of my program was working.

I suddenly felt that math, in a general way, was cracking open for me; it seemed to be illuminating something about  existence . . . that physics, and much of science can be broken into these abstract digits such that we can see a constant exchange of material going on.  (Except of course for breakthroughs related to quantum physics, etc. . . .)  Anyway, this was an exciting moment.

I had an unforgetable dream that night: my housemate and I made our way through a forest and approached a dilapidated castle wall (kind of like the faux castle wall in the animated movie Spirited Away).  We went through the doors and found a wide lake, smooth with a blue sky overhead.  In front of us a log foot bridge extended forward across the lake and we naturally stepped onto it, talking and making our way to the other side.

Gradually, we began to notice that the water was acting strangely.  It appeared to be responding to our movements, even our voices.

When I would move my arm this way, the water would flutter this way.  And as we began to move around with increasingly complex movements, changing the pitches of our voices, and then making dramatic jumping dance moves, the water became increasingly volatile, splashing us, and threatening to overturn our little footbridge.  This was not a game; there was a sense of presence here, and that feeling was ominous.

We hurried the rest of the way across, keeping our movements to a minimum, and went up a hill to the walls of a castle town with turrets and shops. Tourists gaped at the sights, and, seeing our approach, asked in excited voices, “where is the lake?”  We exchanged looks, unsure whether to explain the possible danger to them.  We said: “it’s over there,” and pointed.